Eight Months! Eight months? How could the time have gone so fast? Wasn’t it just yesterday? How did time seem to go so slow in those first moments and days, and then speed up to where we are now?
The date was August 8. I will never forget that date as long as I live. My third born, my 9 year old little boy was suddenly and tragically almost taken from this life, from our arms. He narrowly avoided a collision with his brother in our back yard on his little dirt bike. As a result, he crashed and suffered severe facial fractures and injuries and was barely breathing when his Dad got to him. He was airlifted from our local ER to Chicago where he remained in a drug induced coma to combat his traumatic brain injury for the next 8 days. However, only 10 days after that, he was significantly recovered from facial reconstructive surgery, out of the hospital, out of rehab, and on his way back home. That was the slowest and hardest 18 days of my life, but they were the most miraculous days I have ever witnessed. My son astounded doctors with his recovery. We did the follow up doctors appointments and the therapy appointments with everyone saying the same thing, “He is great, he is healthy, we don’t need to see him anymore”.
How is that possible? How could a child who was on death’s doorstep with a severe head and brain injury be healthy less than a month later? I have learned to be okay with the answer that IT WAS A MIRACLE. There is no other explanation for it. My son should not have returned to school just 2 weeks later than everyone else. He should not be getting A’s and B’s on his report cards. He shouldn’t be the same silly, active, rambunctious 9 year old he was before the accident. His doctors and therapists in the hospital told us those things, what he might never be again. But yet, here we are!
I may very well never know this side of heaven why my son’s life was saved, but I know that God knows and He has His reasons and He has His plans. I am so thankful that I can rest daily in knowing that God loved us all so much that He gave His son’s life for us so we could be ensured a heavenly home with Him forever for those who believe in Him and put their faith and trust in Him. I can be thankful that God knew the hurt I went through, because He went through it too. He watched His Son suffer up to and to the point of death. I am certain His heart was broken having to watch His son go through that earthly pain. My mama’s heart has wept for His Daddy’s heart.
As I watch my little boy sleeping at night in his bed all this time later, I am still in awe that he is here and growing up with a normal childhood once again. I am sure the immediate memories of this journey will fade with time, but I am fairly certain that the 8th of every month will grip my heart with the fear I felt, but also with the hope and remembrance of the miracles we lived through and continue to see every day.